[Vermelhau Clover]

What is it with artists and roofs?

So, there was a kid on the roof.

Well, that was what Mr. Evergreen at least said in the hallway just now. Knocked on the door and everything to announce the fact. ‘If you hear something above you, Clover, don’t be alarmed. Some kid asked if he could draw up there and I said that it wasn’t a problem.’ Yes, you are the person who deals with building-related issues. Everyone who has an apartment in this building knows that we go to you when there is something not working, or if someone causes a problem for the other tenants. Also, you are a rather pleasant old fellow. Vermel just thanked Mr. Evergreen for this heads up before reminding the senior citizen that Vermel will come and play cards the next weekend. That always gets a smile out of the old man, and his wife always cooked like a pro.
Still, there was a kid on the roof.

Vermel’s apartment complex was one of the *nicer* housing options in the Ground District. Location wise it just bordered on were the Wind District started, so crime wasn’t too bad. Sure, you needed to lock your doors at night, but anyone with half a brain did that. Quite a lot of families and senior citizens lived in the building after it was constructed a few years ago. Four floors, running water, and heating. Most are tenants who earn enough to pay the rent each month. Some, like Vermel, had enough Lien to actually buy one of the flats. It was a two-room situation. One was the designated bedroom/workplace, while the other was the living room/kitchen/dining area/walk-in closet/mediation centre/guest room. Multifaceted, sure, but it was still all his. And it was still the most spacious that Vermel had ever lived.

Right, there was a kid on the roof.

It was the end of the year. It was cold. Like, why was it so cold? Vermelhau had lived some months out of Vacuo but he hadn’t had such a cold experience yet. Caused him to buy some nice sweaters though. Looked killer, even though they did not show off any midriff. What is the point of squats if you are not showing off the work? People go to fancy schools to show off their degrees, didn’t they? If you do your daily squats, you have earned the right to show off the results. Still, that all will come in the summer. For now, Vermel was content with the Bordeaux V-neck sweater and form-fitting black yoga pants combination. It was the attractive ensemble that Vermel was wearing as he climbed the fire escape up to the roof of the building. With him the Vacuoan carried a thermos with hot chocolate.

Because if Mr. Evergreen allows a kid to draw on the roof, without offering him some Choco during the winter, then that is just poor form on his part.

Vermel made no attempt to hide his entrance when he climbed on top of the roof. It was a nice enough roof if you wanted to draw from there, he had to admit. It was as flat as a board, and its higher elevation meant that it had a good enough view from over the Ground District. Not too high, not too low. Or at least that was what Vermel would say about it. He didn’t paint. It had snowed the last night, and the previous one at that. Forecast said that it would snow a whole lot more in the coming days, but for now it wasn’t yet too much of a hassle. It was a nice white coat that clutched to the rooftops and the streets. People were inconvenienced, sure, but they weren’t snowed in. Not yet at least. Who knows how the weather will be at the end of the month?

When the snappy dresser saw the ‘kid’ in question drawing at the other end of the roof, Vermel decided to not break the artistic concentration. Wouldn’t want to ruin some kind of masterpiece. Though not fully sneaking, Vermel made sure not to verbally announce his entrance as he walked closer and closer. If Vermel was spotted during his approach, all that he would do was raise the thermos up to Arrats and point at it. Afterwards, or if Arrats would not have noticed the other man approaching, Vermelhau would walk up to the artist to try and look at the work as it was now. He was kinda curious about what was so important about this roof that the ‘kid’ wanted to ask permission to paint here. After taking a peek at the work, and making sure that Arrats didn’t had his utensil on the paper, Vermel would speak.

“Thought that you could use some hot Choco. Wouldn’t want ya to think us being stingy.”

Tagged: Arrats Calanthe
Words:802
OOC: Be nice, bring hot drinks.

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[Arrats Calanthe]

It was a lovely afternoon on this rooftop and Arrats was happily sketching away. The overcast sky and slightly dour atmosphere was a perfect theme for his sketches. It was moody though calm. Like the sea, though he’d never seen it personally he was assured by his sister after she got back from her trip to it that it was a beautiful expanse of blue. Like the sky but never changing. It was an interesting concept really but in the end he liked the sky better. It changed like a mood. Sometimes happy and carefree no clouds in sight. Other days it appeared sad grey and melancholy and on other days it is like this. A nice calm grey sky. Overcast and statuesque. It was wonderful. Calming. Even better when it was raining. Unfortunately for his creative muse the rain that Arrats so desperately wished would come did not appear. Ah well it would’ve ruined his spot on this rooftop if the rain came. He wasn’t immune to a good old fashioned suit ruining after all. It was more an idealistic thought of his that the rain would just move for him so he could get his perfect sketch on the people below.

How did he get up here? Very simply actually. He asked the lovely older man on the floor below to let him up to practice his craft. A Mr Evergreen. Very pleasant. Quite old man who happily let him go up the small amount of stairs to reach his perch. It was spacious and more than enough quiet to allow Arrats to listen to the music of the people below. The murmur of those passing by. So many people with their own lives. From up here they looked a little less like humans and more like ants. So many people. They were all the undefined factor in a predetermined world. They could change anything, do anything. He was not ashamed in saying that he was a very proud Faunus/ Human exceptionalist. After all they made all this. How could they not be better than the other creatures around them? But that also vexed him the most. They could do the most terrible things too. They could turn and betray you or treat you like dirt. It was hard to pin them. That’s why he liked to study other people. They were the ultimate enigma. That is why he was up here to begin with. Though the cold didn’t bother him one iota he did feel the dryness in his mouth. He’d walked all the way here from the academy and had no stopped for a drink since he was busy searching for a place with good elevation. A shame- Arrats thought- that he didn’t heed the advice of his friend from combat school “always bring a water bottle” Ochre was completely correct in that regard. Arrats sighed. He’d owe her a good fifteen lien for that.He owed her a great deal really but she owed him a great deal too. That was how his first friendship was formed. Mutual obligation that turned into a genuine companionship. She was. Well she was certainly something special. Arrats chuckled at the memory of the aggressive, proud and kind woman who kept him from despairing during the combat school. Something in his mind clicked at that point. His thoughts had trailed and now his sketches were half finished his memory clouded with those that came before.


He hardly noticed the person approaching behind him though on some level he picked up the fact that a presence was approaching him. He was more concerned with the snow that had gathered around him. Like birds drawn to a statue to rest upon the snow had fallen around him. Perhaps it was always there, most likely it always was. He didn’t notice the white film gathered around him. Now he ran his hand through it gently. It was here from the previous day that much he’d seen from his window at the academy. It was lovely. More scenery to inspire him was always good. Eventually though he went back to his work either completely ignoring or completely ignorant of the person now looking at his work. What he had been working on was a picture of a woman. Her features were graceful and kind though from the way he was drawing her she seemed melancholy and somber. A tragic sort of peacefulness perhaps. The sketch itself was done very well. Though it wasn’t finished as of yet. It certainly wasn’t any regular person. This woman seemed to be sitting on a half destroyed throne, with two swords lying by her feet. Flanking her were rough sketches of two cloaked figures. One a man carrying a large pole-arm. The other a woman with a spear held aloft. Whatever this sketch was it showcased something rather fantastical. Odd for someone on a roof to be drawing but perhaps it was for inspiration. Arrats did finally hear the other person speak and slowly put his work down. He stood up after that, leaving his pens and pencils on the ground to turn to face this new person.
“Ah, interesting. You have the look of academia about you but you decided to bring me a hot chocolate. Interesting. “
Arrats smiled warmly.
“Thank you. I’ve been working for several hours and am dying to get a drink in my body. I appreciate. It is a commendable thing to deliver such a beverage without request. I appreciate it”
The purple haired boy must’ve been a sight. His hair was messy from the small period of heavy wind he experienced earlier. His clothes were not his signature purple. They were simpler. A formal black jacket hiding the plain white shirt underneath and....as shameful as this was. He was wearing jeans. The horror of such casual clothes. Nevertheless he extended a hand for this newcomer to shake.
“Arrats Calanthe, a pleasure. “

(991/911)

[Vermelhau Clover]

What is it with artists and roofs?

Well, at least the artist on our roofs had some manners to speak off. Seeming to be rather relaxed with the whole situation, Vermel made sure to have his right hand free to shake the hand of the enterprising painter. It wasn’t a firm handshake, and Vermel’s long fingers would tenderly touch Arrats’ for a moment before he would take his hand back again before the man from Vacuo had even spoken his name. His dialect obviously betrayed that he was not from Vacuo, as his appearance was not enough of a dead giveaway. “Vermel. Resident o’ this lovely apartment building that you grace with your presence.”

With the bare minimum of greetings out of the way, Vermel extended the metal container holding the chocolatey goodness inside. The liquid was still hot, and the thermos had a pleasant warmth if touched touch in this weather. Which meant that it didn’t do that great of a job in keeping the liquid inside from cooling, but what did you expect from something that was bought at sale. Vermel was going to bring his guest a drink, but he wasn’t all that thrilled about giving him his good thermos. No way that the walls of this thing were vacuum like it was advertised. Still, it would most likely stay warm for at least half an hour to an hour. It was enough time.

Commenting on Arrats’ earlier remarks about his general appearance, Vermel gave a smile as he placed his hands in his yoga pants. Seeming to be quite the jester, and rather open about the matter, he joked while placing his hand on Arrats’ shoulder. While the man found it somewhat odd that he could still be seen as man of high learning, he didn’t question it too much and went with the flow. “If you know any ot’er academic types who also wear yoga pants, I am sure that you can give a brot’er a number?”

While still keeping his hand on Arrats’ shoulder if allowed, Vermel turned towards the art project on the ground that was so important that this artist needed to go roof climbing. There was a visible moment when the scientist seemed to understand what was sketched. Was it a queen of the past? Was it someone who didn’t even existed? Maybe a lover of the boy who he wanted to capture in a scene only possible in his dreams? Vermel also didn’t seem to understand why someone needed to be out in the freezing cold to draw something like this. Was it for the inspiration? Was it a more experimental form of art? Try to freeze your fingers off and see what you can still put down on paper. Still, it wasn’t half bad. Commenting on the piece that he saw, Vermel looked at Arrats’ again. “So, yousa boy who likes drawing queens on the big chairs? Would you be kind to the man who helped you, and tell this layman what’s in your head. Why draw dis of all t’ings?”

It was a question asked beyond mere pleasantries. Vermelhau seemed to be actually interested in how someone’s brain went to draw this after sitting in the cold for hours. Was it the calm? Was it the desolation? While more a writer than a painter, the origin and manifestation of artistic expression was always an interesting enough topic. Deny a person to express themselves, one always seemed to go against a part of human nature. Atlas experienced this not too long ago, during the war. Their great social experiment that has been ridiculed ever since the conflict ended. No matter how effective the approach seemed in the theses and papers describing, in practise it always seemed to fall apart for a very simple reason.

Deprive people of a basic desire, and they will not stop till they have it back.

Expression was a basic desire. For as long as there was a species, they wanted to express themselves. From the song they sing, from the painting they make, from the stories they tell. To express is to live, and it seemed that a people thinking themselves too smart for such a basic desire needed to be reminded of that fact. Atlas thought that they had mastered human nature. A horrible lack of insight. One that proved futile, in the end. It was why artists always held some fascination to Vermel.

The fact that most of them were snappy dressers and more accepting didn’t hurt.

Tagged: Arrats Calanthe
Words:746 (1548)
OOC: Be nice, touch strangers' shoulders

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[Arrats Calanthe]

The handshake Arrats shared was interesting though he didn’t have many examples to compare it to. It was softer and more genial than he expected. Oddly tender. Not that he was complaining of course it was quite a nice handshake. Though perhaps he wasn’t expecting the accent or maybe he just wasn’t listening properly as the purple haired boy did a small, subtle double take. His accent seemed a little less than Vacuoan himself. It wasn’t exactly something blue blooded but it carried a sense of nobility far above Arrats’s actual status. “Vermel. Interesting, a nice name that. Though it’s not exactly a common one. Good to meet you mister Vermel. “

It was nice to receive that thermos of hot chocolate. Something his mouth had desired ever since it remembered perhaps it wished to be healthy and not dry or chapped. With a nod of gratitude Arrats took a small- and he hoped polite- sip of the hot chocolate from the thermos lended to him. It was quite warm, good he hated lukewarm drinks. They were simply the worst types of drinks. He couldn’t even complain about it really. Lukewarm just meant mediocre. Or average. He couldn’t complain about lukewarm he could only feel something akin to disgust. Happily enough though, it was hot and quite delicious. With a satisfied sigh Arrats put the mug back down from its high perch on his lips.
“That is a good drink, that you again Vermel it’s appreciated. I do hope you don’t mind me calling you that instead of something pertaining to your surname which still eludes me at this present moment. “
It wasn’t something Arrats would press though, some people don’t much like their surnames. Calanthe was something he was proud of. Though the people that carried it-with exceptions for his sister and mother- were not exactly the best people. He’d call them downright despicable. So he understood if that was his case as well.

He didn’t much like the feeling of another’s hand on his shoulder, so he simply acquiesced like he always did, gently moving out of the grip of Vermel. Arrats was quite sure he didn’t mean much by it and he was fairly certain it was in jest but for the moment he’d simply go past it like it didn’t occur. “I’ll see if I can- as the socialites say- pencil you in yes?”

As for his art project it was still half finished but the intricacies were indeed starting to show. The Queen was perhaps the most focused on. She seemed to be the focus of the piece and certainly occupied the majority of it. The outfit she was wearing was not exactly the most typically suited for a Queen. No it was more akin to someone perhaps lower down the hierarchy. Her clothes were stained with some sort of black liquid and though not finished it seemed the intention was for an all white clothing scheme for her with splotches of the remaining black colours dotting the dress much akin to someone who has been busy working for many hours and have had their clothes soiled in the process. The other figures standing on either side were more interesting. The man was hidden, with the cloak he wore hiding almost all his features, except for a small but rather insidious grin. The woman on the other hand was much more revealed, wearing armour that was much lighter than the darker cloak the other man was wearing. She appeared much like a shining knight of old. Like a protagonist compared to the black hooded figure’s antagonistic role.

Arrats tapped his chin in thought, it was hard to describe but he managed to scrabble together a response to the question.
“Well I suppose it’s a number of things. A few familial ties inspired it, not through their fashion sense of course. Some other inspirations, like the great artists of our day and ...ah I cannot lie or hide my own dalliances. In truth a good friend of mine lent me some comics and I have mixed their appearances with some of my own fantastical imagery and ah..voila. I do hope it’s pleasing to the eye, even without a finishing touch as of yet.”
(707/1618)